


Do-Svi-Da-Ni-Ya

by dylsmorley



Category: Anastasia (1997), The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Anastasia Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Awkward Clarke, Bellamy Has Feelings, Bellarke, Camp Jaha | Arkadia, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Linctavia - Freeform, Minor Character Death, Mount Weather, Out of Character, Princess Mechanic brotp, Sexual Tension, princess!clarke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2018-12-07 15:24:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11626389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dylsmorley/pseuds/dylsmorley
Summary: Bellamy and Octavia helped save a princess and her mother from a huge angry mob that were hell bent on killing the royal family. At some point, the royals got seperated. Now, 10 years later, Queen Abigial Griffin of Mount Weather is looking for her last remaining daughter and is willing to give a very generous reward for her.Meanwhile, Clara, an orphan girl from TonDC orphanage, has just turned 18 and has been released to the world. With no clue as to where her family is, and a major memory loss issue, she's running out of ideas. All she has is a necklace as proof that she did come from somewhere, and that is all the motivation she needs.With the help of a slightly obnoxious mechanic and a pair of con-artist siblings, Clara is on a mission to discover the truth about who she is. Could she really be the lost princess that everyone has been looking for? Or is it all just an honest mistake?{sorry, guys, I REALLY suck at summaries...but you should give it a read!!}





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so here is the prologue of my new story. I was watching Anastasia earlier, and I just got inspired!! I'm going to try finishing this story by next week, so expect a new update everyday. Please let me know what you guys think, enjoy!!!!!!

Prologue

Mount Weather, 1916

 

 _Once we lived in an enchanted world,_  
_A world of Kings and Princesses and elegant palaces and grand parties,_  
_A beautiful, magical time that would soon be gone forever._

 

The former queen of Mount Weather, Abigail Griffin, had come back from Arkadia to her eldest son’s palace for the 300th year anniversary of the Griffin family’s reign. Despite being a former queen, the Griffin matriarch was still required to show her face at several foreign diplomacy meetings and events, which inevitably dragged her away from her growing family. Abigail’s eldest son, Roan, was the current King of Mount Weather after her husband’s passing three years ago. Abigail was too overcome with grief to continue ruling without him, so Roan stepped in before Allie, the greedy Queen from the City of Light, tried stealing the crown right from under their noses.

  
When Abigail arrived at the palace in her horse drawn carriage, she wasn’t at all surprised to see just how many foreign diplomats she had met on her trips had made appearances. Even though she was the one dealing with foreign policies and such, Roan always made sure to keep close relationships with the neighboring countries’ leaders.

  
Abigail was swept back up into the tornado that is ball gowns, waltzing, friendly smiles, and small talk. She was beyond ecstatic when she finally made it up to the raised stage and had the chance to leisurely observe the evening’s festivities from her chair besides her son’s throne. Abigail could see her children mingling with the guests like she had just done or enjoying themselves on the ballroom floor.

  
There was Echo, who seemed to be attempting to teach Jackson how to waltz properly but was failing terribly, Luna, who was talking with the King of Flokru’s son, Derek, and Charlotte, who was playing with a few other children that had accompanied their parents to the celebration. There were still two of her children missing, but it didn’t take too long for her to find them. Clarke’s bubbling laughter is what caught Abigail’s attention to the edge of the dance floor where she and Roan were dancing their own interpretation of a formal waltz.

  
Roan, much like Abigail, always had a soft spot for his younger sister, and that much showed as he affectionately carried most of Clarke’s weight on his shoes. As Roan spun them, Clarke caught sight of their mother and made a face at her. Abigail chuckled to herself as she watched over all her children. When the song finally finished, Clarke and Roan began crossing the room towards their mother.

  
The sound of a door opening caught Abigail’s attention, and she turned just as a young girl appeared from the servant’s door that was partially hidden behind one of the columns. The girl’s thin brown hair was pulled back from her face with a blue ribbon, and her servant’s uniform was clearly worn out and dirty. Her dark eyes were wide with wonder as she gazed out at all the people in their extravagant ball gowns and tuxedos. Suddenly, the servant’s door opened once more, and a tall, lanky boy came out. It was obvious he was related to the girl, with the same dark skin and eyes as her, but his mop of curls was an inky black rather than dirt brown.

  
“Octavia, what are you doing? You’re gonna get us in trouble!” the boy hisses at her. She glanced back at him before rolling her eyes much like Echo used to do when she went through her teenage years.

  
“No one told you to follow me, Bell,” was all she said.

  
The boy, Bell, huffed before grabbing Octavia’s arm and trying to tug her back through the door.

  
“C’mon. Let’s get outta here before one of the royals sees us.”

  
Abigail flinched at how bitterly Bell said the word “royals,” clearly referring to her and her family. It didn’t make any sense. She had raised her children to respect everyone and to always treat the servants politely. There was no reason for this child to speak so harshly about any of them.

  
Octavia and Bell’s sharp cries of fear brought her out of her revere. Abigail blinked and saw that Indra, the head servant, had joined the two children. The older woman firmly held one of the children’s arms in each of her hands and appeared to be whispering something in their ears. From what Abigail could see, it wasn’t anything good because Octavia’s lip started to quiver and Bell’s face went blank. Before she could say something to Indra, Abigail heard Clarke shout.

  
“Indra!! Let them go!” her daughter bounded up to the servants. In her pale pink ball gown and blonde hair curled into perfect ringlets, Clarke stood in stark contrast to their worn-out clothing.

  
“Excuse me, Princess, but I don’t believe this is any of your concern,” Indra bit out through her teeth at the same time as Abigail said, “Clarke, honey, let Indra do her job.”  
Clarke looked back at her and her bright blue eyes were shimmering with unshed tears.

  
“But, mother, I invited Octavia to come! I wanted her to get the chance to see everything because she’s never done so before. It’s my fault, not there’s.” As she said this, Clarke made her way to the other girl’s side and grasped her hand.

  
Abigail stared at her for a moment before looking up at Indra, who still had the children’s arms in her hands, and nodded at the older woman. Indra hesitated before letting them go.

  
“They have two minutes,” was all she said before disappearing back through the servant’s door.

  
Abigail stood off to the side as Octavia hugged Clarke fiercely. Bell stayed hidden behind the column but continued to watch the two younger girls exchange words with a small smile on his face. The girls continued their chatter about the celebration until Bell glanced down at the small leather wrist watch and nodded for Octavia to finish. Clarke hugged the other girl once more and grabbed her hand before smiling sweetly at the two of them. Bell’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion while he ushered Octavia through the door, but the girl wasn’t paying any attention to him. Instead, she was staring open mouthed at her hand. Abigail tried to see what she was looking at, but the door shut behind the pair before she could.

  
Clarke took Abigail’s hand and led her back to where Roan was calmly lounging in his throne.

  
“Hello, mother. How was Arkadia? Is Marcus Kane still perfectly cordial?”

  
Abigail smiled primly back at her son as she sat down. “Arkadia was still peaceful and quiet. As for Marcus, he is always a gentleman, unlike certain people.”

  
He let out a laugh that sounded so much like his father’s that Abigail could feel her heart ache.

  
“Mom, did you bring me back anything? Please say yes!” Clarke asked, climbing onto Roan’s lap. The king and Abigail both chuckled, gazing down at the younger Griffin princess.

  
“Clarke Amelia Griffin, what have I told you about being selfish?” Abigail said, but the words lacked any harshness. Clarke schooled her features into a guilty expression, but it was clear that neither of the grown-ups bought it. The child was practically bursting with excitement.

  
With a playful sigh, Abigail reached into her small purse and pulled out a delicate gold chain. It had a single gold charm with embedded miniature topaz stones and the words May we meet again inscribed into it. She normally didn’t play favoritism, but, out of all her children, Abigail knew Clarke was the one who took her mother’s constant trips the hardest. After King Jacob Griffin’s passing, Clarke grew incredibly close to her remaining parent, and Roan gracefully stepped up to the role of a father figure for his younger siblings.

  
Abigail handed the necklace over to Clarke, who, in turn, handed it to Roan for him to put it on her. Once he had fastened it, Clarke gazed down at the charm and smiled softly. “I love it, mom. Thank you.”

  
Before she could respond, the room grew suddenly dark and a ghostly whisper swept over the room. At the far side of the ballroom, the large marble doors swung open and revealed a lone figure dressed in dark robes with a raised hood covering their face.

  
Roan slipped Clarke off his lap and rose to his feet with Abigail following suit. From the corner of her eye, she could see her other children come to stand behind Roan as well. Echo and Luna stood at his flanks, while Jackson held Clarke and Charlotte behind them. Once again, the sound of the servant door opening caught her attention. Abigail turned to see Bell and Octavia peaking around the column to watch what was happening, except, this time Bell was holding the younger girl behind him as if to protect her the same way Jackson held the youngest Griffin princesses.

  
By the time Abigail focused on the lone figure once more, they were already halfway across the room and dropped their hood. There stood Cage Wallace standing alone in the center of the room. His pale complexion looked almost sickly in contrast with his dark, shoulder-length hair and blazing red eyes. He was once a holy man and confidante for Abigail’s husband for most of his reign. After Jacob discovered that Cage was selling information about Mount Weather and his decisions to their enemies, Jacob ordered his execution. However, as Cage Wallace was strung upside down and drained of his blood, he did not die. Instead, Jacob was the one who died due to complete and total blood loss. It was a very horrific scene that still haunts Abigail to this day. And now, here is the man who caused her beloved’s sudden death, standing before her and her children.

  
“You are not welcome here, traitor. You killed my father with your dark magic, and I will not allow you to do such a thing again. Get out!” Roan spat coldly at the man.

  
Cage Wallace swung his hand out from where they were hidden in the material of his robes and Abby saw that he held a vial of a red smoky substance that appeared to move on its own accord. When Cage uncorked it, the smell of rotting flesh immediately filled the room as the smoke tumbled down his hand.

  
“The Griffin reign ends here! I managed to kill Jacob Griffin, and now the rest of you will be dead within two weeks! This is the end of the Griffin family forever!” The smoke seemed to wrap around him, and, by the time it cleared, he was gone.

 

<<                >>

 

Cage Wallace’s words seemed to echo through everyone’s minds because one by one, the Griffin children began to die off. A horse trampled Charlotte out in the courtyard while she was playing, Luna grew very sick and died within a matter of days, Jackson got fatally stabbed one day in sword practice, and Echo fell down the stairs, dying instantly. All that were left of her children were Roan and Clarke, and she clung onto them as much as possible, with hopes that she could prevent their premature deaths.

  
In the end, it wasn’t a fatal accident that brought the Griffin family to their knees. It was an angry mob, who were most likely under the influence of Cage Wallace’s sorcery, that ransacked the palace. Majority of the guards and servants had already left the palace in fear of the deadly prediction spreading onto them, therefore the mob had an easy time getting into the gates and through the doors.

  
Roan had declared that he would rather go down fighting than being chased out of his own family’s palace, so he stayed alone in the throne room where Wallace single-handedly ended the Griffins. Abigail begged and pleaded, but her son did not relent. Instead, he forced her out of the room with orders to get Clarke and herself out of the palace as fast as possible. With no other choice, Abigail ran to her last child.

  
The remaining guards and servants were running in the halls either trying to take anything of value or just trying to find any loved ones before taking their leave. Abigail was halfway to the living chambers where Clarke was supposed to be when she saw a flash of blonde hair streak past her.

  
She turned to see her daughter in an oversized overcoat that more than likely belonged to Roan or her father and her blonde hair coming out of her once neat braids. Abigail immediately began chasing after her only remaining daughter as she darted around people.

  
“Clarke! Clarke, where are you going?” Abigail cried after he daughter, but the child didn’t stop or even acknowledge her mother’s words.

  
As Clarke ran past the music room, a hand shot out of the barely opened door and grabbed her. Abigail cried out in fear that her last daughter’s life had just been cut short as she pushed her legs to go faster. She finally reached the music room door and did not hesitate to slip inside.

  
Abigail was completely shocked to see the two servant children from the ball, Octavia and Bell, trying to shove Clarke through what appeared to be a servant’s passage in the wall.

  
“Mom!” Clarke yelled before pushing past the other two children and reaching for her mother.

  
“Okay, Clarke, I know you’re a princess and all, but you two really need to get in there,” Octavia said, nervously glancing at the doors behind Abigail.

  
As if on cue, angry shouts came from right outside the door. It would be a matter of seconds before those doors opened. They needed to get out of there now.

  
Abigail shoved Clarke into the passage and tried to do the same with Octavia, but the girl refused. “I’m not leaving my brother alone. Don’t even try to argue with me, Bellamy. I am not leaving you here on your own!”

  
Bellamy growled in frustration. “Dammit, O. You need to go with them. I’m not gonna let you get killed in here. I can’t lose Mom and you!”

  
Clarke whimpered and was about to grab at her friend’s wrist, where a familiar looking charm bracelet shimmered in the light, when Abigail let out a soft thanks to the two children and dragged her along towards the end of the passageway. She heard Octavia slid the wall panel back in place just as the doors burst open and the sound of angry shouts echoed through the narrow passage.

  
The exit led to the back courtyard where the stables and barn sat nestled quiet and undisturbed in the night. The stream that had branched off from the mountain river was calmly flowing over small rocks and lily pads. Abigail thought they might finally be safe when a dark figure seemed to manifest out of the shadows themselves and grab onto Clarke’s hair. The stench of rotting flesh and burnt skin filled Abigail’s airways, making her gag in revulsion.

  
Clarke didn’t make a sound as Cage Wallace himself tugged harshly at her blonde locks. “Well, well, well. Looks like I got lucky enough to find Queen Abigail and the last Griffin heir ever. Oh, what’s with the face, Abby? You look like someone pissed in your afternoon tea,” the monster growled at her through bared teeth.

 

“Get your hands off my daughter,” Abigail growled back, taking a step forward.

  
Cage took a few steps back, dragging Clarke with him. “Now, why would I want to do that? She is the last toy that I haven’t had the opportunity to play with.”

  
Abigail kept stepping towards him, and he kept trying to get away from her.

  
“Let my daughter go and you can have me. I’m a Griffin too.”

  
“You’re not an actual Griffin. I want a pure blood Griffin, not one made by marriage. You don’t count,” Cage said snottily.

  
He was nearly at the edge of the stream, and it wouldn’t take much to get him the rest of the way. Abigail pursed her lips before glancing down at Clarke, trying to telepathically tell her eight-year-old daughter what she needed her to do.

  
“Why are you coming after my family? What did we ever do to you in the first place? Jacob treated you like family and you turned on him.”

  
“Your husband was a weak man and you know it. He – ow!” Cage was cut off by Clarke ramming her elbow into his stomach and, when he released her hair, turning around, and punching him in the nose.

  
Cage tumbled down into the stream, where Abigail held his head underwater until his body stopped thrashing about. She waited a few seconds just to be safe before letting him go. When she turned back to Clarke, she saw that her daughter was practically paralyzed.

 

“Clarke, honey, who we are and who we need to be to survive are two very different things. I had to do it to protect you."

 

After a moment's hesitation, Abigail asked, "And where on Earth did you learn to punch like that?"

 

The child barely managed a shaky smile before she choked out, "Roan."

  
Abigail smiled fondly at her eldest son's intentions to make sure his little sister was protected all the time. She glanced down at the girl and sighed. Abigail knew she was sacred, but they couldn’t deal with her child’s fear now. Without another word, Abigail grabbed Clarke’s hand and dragged her after her.

 

<<            >>

 

They made it all the way to the train station when disaster struck one again. The station itself was in chaos. There were people rushing to escape the angry mobs that seemed to be appearing all over the city now. Abigail managed to hop onto the back of a train that she had heard a conductor announce was headed towards Arkadia.

  
When Abigail turned to grab her daughter’s hand and pull her up, her heart dropped. Clarke was running alongside the now moving train, but she was falling behind. Abigail could barely reach her fingers, and she knew it wouldn’t be enough. Within seconds, the train started speeding up and Clarke was suddenly falling.

  
“No, Clarke!” Abigail screamed, but her daughter never reappeared from the ground. She was about to dive off the back of the train herself when someone grabbed her from behind and pushed her into the rear cart.

  
By the time she finally pushed her way back out to the railing, Abigail was too late. She never saw her daughter again.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the first official chapter for this story. If everything goes as planned, I should have the next one out either later tonight or tomorrow afternoon. Please let me know what you guys think. Enjoy!!!

Chapter 1

Mount Weather, 1926

 

_Have you heard what they’re saying on the street?_

_Although the King did not survive, one daughter may be still alive,_

_The Princess Clarke_

_But please do not repeat,_

_It’s a rumor, a legend, a mystery._

Octavia was munching on an apple as she strolled leisurely through the streets of Mount Weather’s slums. All around her, she could hear people gossiping about the supposed lost Griffin princess. This is the news that Bellamy had dragged her out of bed before the sun was even out, so she could make arrangements to hold auditions for his plan to swindle the poor royal.

Apparently, there was a very large amount of money that Queen Abigail was willing to pay anyone who brought the missing girl to her, but, of course, a con as major as this one wasn’t going to be easy. All the rumors claimed that whoever brought forth the supposed princess, they would have to meet with the Queen’s nephew, Lincoln, to prove that the girl was the real deal. One of Bellamy’s friends, Miller, whose father was one of the Queen’s guardsmen, confirmed all the rumors, and that was enough for Bellamy to begin his scheming.

As she made her way up the steps to the very heart of the black market, the Exchange, Octavia swore the whispers about the Griffin princess grew louder. She turned back and, sure enough, groups of people were talking softly with their heads bent together and occasionally glancing around for Grounders, the government mandated police.

She turned to continue into the market place, but a sharp whistle caught her attention.

“Hey, O,” her older brother hissed as he leaned carelessly against the brick wall on the side of the door. She was amazed that she hadn’t noticed his large form sooner.

“So? How did it go?”

Octavia sighed. “Well, I sent word to all our usual places and managed to get an old theater to hold the auditions. Look, are you sure about this, Bell? We used to work for these people, and we even saved the Queen’s life that night.”

Bellamy subconsciously raised his hand to the scar above his lip that he had gotten that terrible night when one of the men slammed the butt of a gun into her brother’s face. He dropped it once he realized what he was doing, and his face fell back into its usual frown.

“Oh, c’mon! O, this could be life changing or us! We would be done with forging papers, stealing, even working cons. Look, everything is going according to plan. All we need is the girl!”

Octavia pursed her lips but stayed silent as they passed all the vendors and con-artists that the two of them had grown up around after the palace fell to shit. Bellamy led her up the back stairs to their usual hideout to avoid the Grounders. He stopped so suddenly that Octavia ran into him.

“What the hell?” she cried as she rubbed her poor nose. Bell whirled around to face her. His grumpy frown was gone. Instead, there was a soft look in his eyes, and Octavia suddenly noticed just how tired her brother looked.

“Okay. I get what you’ve been saying. We helped these people at one point in our lives, but all that doesn’t matter anymore. I know you were sort of friends with the princess everyone is looking for and that it hurts you to run a con on her mother, but we need to take care of ourselves for fucks sake. I don’t want you to live this life forever, and this is the out we’ve been waiting for. Everyone knows that we are the best of the best. Who else could pull this off but you and me? We’ll be rich, we’ll be out, and Mount Weather will have some more to talk about!”

He grabbed his sister and swung her around the tiny stair landing as he practically sang the last few words. Octavia let out a surprise laugh at his unexpected giddiness. It had been a very long time since he saw her laugh and smile, and it made his smile grow slightly.

Bellamy set his sister back down to her feet. Octavia stared at his hopeful expression for a few moments before sighing, “Alright, I’m in. Besides, who else is going to keep you from getting yourself killed or worse, arrested.”

The siblings both laughed as Bellamy opened the door. Their rundown hideout was still as messy and dingy as it was when she was dragged out of bed at some God forsaken hour this morning. Octavia noticed that her brother had packed what meager belongings they two of them had while she was gone.

As Octavia glanced around the room to make sure he didn’t forget anything, Bellamy strode over to the large French doors that, once upon a time, led to an extravagant balcony Now, there was just the steep side of the roof that went straight down all the way to the snow-covered ground. Bell opened the doors and seemed to be scaling the distance from the ground to the window ledge.

She looked from the suitcases in the center of the room and back to her brother before it clicked in her mind. “Oh hell no. Nope. No way. I’m not gonna sliding down and risk breaking my neck. You must be out of your mind.”

Bellamy looked back at her before smirking. “Well, baby sister, it’s either this or going back downstairs and dealing with those creeps Murphy and Dax. Your choice.”

Octavia crossed her arms, prepared to stand her ground before she realized her dumbass brother was right.

“Fine, but you’re taking the bags.”

His responding chuckle tugged at her annoyance. Bell retrieved the bags from beside her, and, once he had them in a comfortable position, he waved his arm for her to go first.

“After you, O.”

She glared at him. “Why do you have to be so dramatic all the time? You know what, if I die, I’m coming back to haunt your ass.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever the hell you want!” he shouted after her as she set off at a running start to the open windows.

Octavia hit the snow covering the entirety of the roof’s paneling with a soft thud. At first, she thought she wasn’t going to move and had turned to Bell to say his plan was a flop, when the snow shifted under her feet. Before she could get a word out, she felt herself sliding down.

The sound of Bellamy landing to her left, closer to the edge of the building’s roof. She could hear his laughter over the harsh winter wind. Bubbling laughter escaped her lips as she raised her arms up over her head. “Bell, Bell, look! I’m flying!”

Their laughter was cut short as the roof dropped down. Neither of them were expecting, and they ended up in a pile of tangled limbs, suitcases, and snow. Groaning, Octavia managed to separate herself from her oversized brother before softly kicking his side.

“Great idea, dork,” she snapped at him. Bellamy finally raised his head from the snow and looked up at her. His messy, black curls were even more fluffier than usual thanks to their ride off the roof. She hated to think how bad her hair must look right now.

He watched as Octavia self-consciously smoothed down her long hair. As usual, it was pulled back from her face by tight braids and ended in another intricate looking braid that Gaia, a supposed fortune teller who worked down in the market place, had taught her how to do.

Bellamy must have been staring at his kid sister too long because she was rolling her eyes and walking towards the mouth of the alleyway before he could even move to stand. He knew she wouldn’t hesitate to leave him behind if he took too long, so he quickly stood and shook all the snow off him before grabbing the bags and joining her.

Since Octavia never said where the theater she got for them was, he had to follow her down the street.

“Hurry up! And try not to fall this time,” she called over her shoulder as she started jogging to catch the trolley that was cruising down the street. Octavia leaped gracefully onto the already crowded landing and turned to catch the bags Bell tossed up before he jumped on.

He glared down at her. “It was one time. Let it go.”

Octavia smiled sweetly at him but remained silent. Shaking his head, he clung onto the railing as he gazed out at the market.

There were the usual vendors selling newspapers, fabric, chunks of meat, cooked foods, and even jewelry. He had grown up here before one of his mother’s _friends_ got them jobs up in the Griffin palace. He remembered running around with the other children as their parents slaved away at the market place or in the nearby factories. Before his mother got pregnant again and the mantra _your sister, your responsibility_ became his whole life, but he sure as hell wasn’t complaining. Octavia was the only good thing he had going in his life, and he was not about to screw that up. That’s why this one last job was so important.

Bellamy leaned over and looked out at the ruins of the Griffin palace that still seemed to shine in the dull sunlight as the bus headed in that direction. His face twisted into a bitter smile.

_Yeah, this is going to be the biggest con in history…_

 

<<          >>

 

A few miles outside of the city limits, TonDC Orphanage was losing one of their most peculiar charges.

Anya, the orphanage matron was leading a young girl who turned eighteen that day out to the main gates. “I got you a job in the fish factory. You have to go down this path until you get to the fork in the road. Go left –”

“Goodbye! Bye everyone!” The girl, Clara yelled back to the ninety other orphans who had their tear stained faces pressed against the windows as they watched her leave.

“Are you even listening?” Anya grunted, grabbing Clara’s arm in an iron grip.

Clara had grown used to the older woman’s hostility and violence over the years, especially when it was directed towards her. So, when Anya tightened her hold and started digging her nails in, Clara didn’t even wince. She learned not to give Anya the benefit of seeing her in pain, it only encouraged her.

“Yes, Anya. I’m listening.”

Anya’s upper lip raised in an animalistic snarl before turning back to walk ahead of her.

“You have been a pain in the ass since the Grounders brought you here. I have never seen such a spoiled, self-serving child in my life! For the last ten years I have done nothing but feed you, keep clothes on your scrawny back, and keep a roof over your head. How convenient that you have absolutely no recollection as to who you are or where you come from?”

Clara rolled her eyes so hard that she was certain they would have permanently rolled back into her head. “I wouldn’t exactly call it a convenience, but I do have a clue— “

“Ah, yes. How could I possibly forget? _May we meet again_ ,” Anya said in a sugar sweet voice as she roughly grabbed the charm that Clara was fiddling with. She pulled onto the chain, bringing Clara nose to nose with her.

The smell of her rotting teeth and bourbon smelling breath was a horrible combination and made Clara almost throw up what little breakfast she had eaten all over Anya’s shoes.

“So, where are you going to go then? Mount Weather? City of Light? Jaha? Oh, let me guess, Arkadia? Princess, you have no clue where you belong. It is time to learn your place in life and be grateful!” With that, Anya shook her for good measure before opening the gate and practically throwing her out into the snow.

“May we meet again!” the old hag cackled.

Clara watched the matron straggle back up to the doors of TonDC with a stormy look on her face before stomping off towards the main street. She could still hear cruel laughter in her ears as she stomped all the way to the fork in the road.

“Anya has no idea what she’s talking about. Be grateful, she says. Grateful for what? Being abused and tormented all these years by her? Or for the fact that I’m an orphan? What do I have to be grateful for? Other than finally getting away from her!” Clara yelled the last part back at the road she has just came from.

With a sigh, she gazed up at the street signs that pointed in two different directions. The one pointing left had the words “Fishing Ports” where Clara knew the fish factory job would be waiting for her. She would be Clara the orphan forever. The arrow pointing right had the words “Mount Weather,” which is where she just knew deep in her gut that an adventure awaited her there. Maybe, just maybe, if she went right, she could find who gave her the necklace.

Clara groaned in frustration, sitting down on the ground at the base of the street sign. She tilted her head back and gazed up at the bleak winter sky. Once again, she found herself tugging on the gold charm, the only thing, aside from her old overcoat, that gave her reassurance that she truly did come from _somewhere._

“Come on! Can you just give me a sign? A hint! Anything,” her frustrated yelling grew into a low whisper.

A sudden honking sound startled Clara enough to make her raise her head from where she had dropped it into her hands a moment ago. There was a large truck skidding straight towards her. It took her a split second for her to regain her senses and roll out of the way just as the truck slammed into the wooden post.

“Son of a bitch!” a female voice yelled from inside the truck’s cab.

Clara slowly rose to her feet and called out to whoever the driver was, “Hey, are, uh, are you okay?”

The female voice was too busy grinding out curses as the driver continued slamming their hand on the steering wheel that they probably didn’t even hear Clara.

Glancing around, Clara went around the front of the truck but stopped short as the driver side door opened. The truck was a lot higher than most trucks that Clara had experience with back at the orphanage, and she wasn’t at all surprised when the driver pretty much fell out.

She, however, was surprised when the driver turned out to be a teenage girl around her own age. Despite the long and harsh winters, they suffered from this far north, the girl’s skin was remarkably tan with tawny thrown back into braids and a ponytail. She was decked out in what looked like men’s work clothing and boots. Aside from everything else, what really caught Clara’s attention was the metal brace that covered most of the girl’s left leg.

The girl was too busy cursing to notice Clara was standing behind her, so when she finally straightened up and saw her, the girl was startled to say the least. Apparently her first reaction was to swing a fist at Clara’s head, and, too shocked to duck out of the way, Clara caught the full force punch straight to her lip.

“What the fuck was that for?” Clara cried. Without waiting for a response, she brings her arm back and repays the stranger with a hit to her eye.

The girl was knocked back with the force of Clara’s punch and ended up sprawled against the door of the wrecked truck.

Clara half expected the girl to retaliate and the two of them rolling around on the cold ground, but, instead, the other girl burst out laughing,

“Well, I’ll be damned. I was sure you were the type to start crying or something, but fuck. That was a damn good hit. Where’d’ya learn to hit like that, girl?”

She hesitated before grinning back at the girl before grimacing. Her lip split open from her too wide smile, making blood trail down her chin and into the snow. “I got into a lot of fights back at the orphanage. Plus, our matron was a total bitch, so I learned how to take a hit.”

“Well, anyone who can take one of my punches and not be a little cry baby about it is automatically a badass in my book. I’m Raven. Raven Reyes,” she said, extending to tanned hand out to her.

“Clara.”

The two girls shook hands until raven raised an eyebrow and released Clara. “So, is there a last name or are you just rocking the whole single name thing?”

Sighing, Clara told the girl her usual answer when anyone asked about her past. “I honestly have no clue if I even _have_ a last name. I was dropped off at TonDC when I was eight with no memory of who I was or where I came from. Ten years later, I’m still completely lost, and now I’m supposed to go down to the stupid fish ports and work there for the rest of my life.”

“Nah ah. Trust me, you do not wanna go down there. That place is a shit hole. I’ve been there a few times, and it is definitely not a place someone with your looks would have a happy ending. C’mon, you can tag along with me.”

Raven reached back into the truck and came out with a threadbare rucksack. Nodding for Clara to follow her, Raven tossed the bag over her shoulder before limping off down the path that led to Mount Weather.  

“Wait, are you really going to just leave your truck here?” Clara asked as she ran to keep up with her.

The other girl snorted. “Hell yeah I am. That’s my boyfriend’s – well, ex-boyfriend’s truck. I found the piece of shit sleeping with our next-door neighbor. I stole his truck and was leaving his ass when I almost killed you and wrecked the truck. Besides, I know a few friends who live a little down the road. They can give us a ride over to Mount Weather.”

Clara figured that hitching a ride with a few strangers alongside the girl who had just punched her less than five minutes ago was probably a bad idea, but she currently couldn’t care less. It beat spending the rest of her life down by the docks.

_Fuck it,_ she thought. _Somewhere down this road I know someone’s waiting. Years of dreaming just can’t be wrong._

 

<<           >>

 

Raven’s friends, Monty and Jasper were a set of fraternal twins who sold homemade moonshine and herbs down at the Exchange, which they explained was the black market down in Mount Weather’s slums. When they saw Raven appear at their doorstep with Clara in tow, both sets of eyes were bloodshot and narrowed. Clara recognized the clear sign of drugs, as it was such a familiar sight down at TonDC, and became instantly wary. She didn’t know how she felt about getting a ride from two guys who clearly were not in a sound state of mind. 

When she voiced her concerns to Raven, the other girl assured her that Raven would be the one driving. The girls just needed a car to get to the city. They would in turn leave the boys in their car until they sobered up and could drive themselves home. Clara liked the sound of that plan, but was still concerned that the twins would end up in trouble in their stoned state, but she trusted Raven’s judgement already. If Raven said they could trust them, then she was going to trust them.

The car ride to Mount Weather went as smooth as one could expect with two extremely stoned teenagers in the backseat. Jasper kept reaching over the seat and wrapping Raven up in a hug even though she was driving. He also kept screaming that Clara resembled a princess with her golden hair and large blue eyes. Monty was very affectionate, much more than his brother, and ended up curled up like a cat in Clarke’s lap halfway through the drive.

By the time Raven found a discrete place to park the car, the twins were both fast asleep and probably would be for a long while.

“Okay, what now, princess?” Raven said with a smirk.

Clara, who was adjusting the hat she snatched off Monty’s head before she got out of the car, grimaced.

“Oh, not you too!”

“Well, stoner boy was right. You do look like a princess. In fact…” Raven trailed off as she looked around.

“In fact what? Raven?” Clara asked.

Raven focused on the girl in front of her once again before smiling devilishly. It was a look Clara had come to recognize from the mischievous, troublesome children she had to help Anya with and knew whatever was going on in Raven’s head, it would not end well. “Feel like going to a castle?”

Clara blinked at her. “I’m sorry, did you say _a castle_?”

The other girl rolled her eyes.

“Really? Did they never let you out of that orphanage those ten years you were stuck there? Jesus Christ, turn around!”

When Clara complied, she gasped. Sure enough there were tall golden towers peeking out from the nearby buildings, a steeple, and even what looked like ancient gargoyles.

“Okay, I’ll bite. What’s with the castle?” Clara said.

Raven came around to stand in front of Clarke with the evil smile still plastered on her face. “That, my dear friend, is the Griffin Palace. It’s been standing in our fair city for, like, 300 something years now. It’s been abandoned for about _ten years now_ ,” she said with clear emphasis with her last three words.

Clara stopped staring at the peaks of the glimmering building and refocused on Raven.

“Are you trying to say that you think _I’m royalty_? Are you out of your mind? Okay, I knew this was a bad idea. Thanks for proving me right. Ciao!” Clara turned away from Raven and the far away palace and began walking aimlessly.

The sound of creaking metal and material brushing together alerted her that Raven was following her.

“Who’s to say you’re not a princess? No one knows what happened to one of the youngest Griffin children ten years ago after Cage Wallace’s attack. Besides, it would make a lot of sense. Your age and looks both match and –”

At this point, Clara had already stopped walking, but Raven was still talking a mile a minute.

“Hold up, what did you just say?” Clara said, effectively cutting the other girl’s monologue off.

Raven blinked.

“Which part?”

Clara grunted in annoyance. “The part about Cage Wallace! What is that?”

“He’s the reason everything turned to shit. He apparently got King Jacob killed thirteen years ago and threatened the rest of the Griffin children at some huge celebration one night. Then, like the creep predicted, five of the Griffin kids died off one by one. Buuuutttt, no one knows what happened to the last Griffin daughter.” Raven ended her statement in a sing-song voice that had Clara rolling her eyes for what felt like the millionth time that day.

For some odd reason, the name Cage Wallace sounded familiar to her. It felt like a memory was trying to get unlocked in her mind, but she couldn’t find the key.

Sighing, Clara turned back to Raven.

“Okay, so, for hypothetical purposes, how would we find out if I’m this lost princess you’re going on about?”

“I say, we go to the Griffin palace, check it out, and see if anything triggers your amnesia problem. If it doesn’t work, then we find some place to bunk and get jobs or something. Keep in mind that if it turns out you are royalty, you would finally have a family and all that jazz. You game?” Raven asked hopefully.

Biting her lip, Clara glanced back at the palace towers that almost looked brighter in the fading sunlight before turning back to her friend.

“Fuck it. What have I got to lose? Just keep in mind that I know how to fight. If this is some lure to get me alone and kill me or something, I will totally kick your ass. Just saying.”

Raven grinned as she slung an arm over Clarke’s shoulders.

“Yeah, sure, princess. I’m going to expect a huge thank you after this.”

Clara snorted as the two of them set off in the direction of the Griffin Palace, but she couldn’t shake the strange feeling settling in the pit of her stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, none of my wriitng is proofread, so please let me know if ya'll notice any mistakes. Thanks!!


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know this update is a little short, but I've been busy all day. I planned to give you guys one huge chapter, but, since my day was way too chaotic, I decided to just split it in half. So here is the first part & I should have the next part up by tomorrow night. Like always, lmk what you think & enjoy!!

Chapter 2

Mount Weather, 1926

 

_Far away, long ago,_

_Glowing dim as an ember_

_Things my heart used to know,_

_Things it yearns to remember._

“Grandma, it’s me. Anastasia,” the next woman auditioning says in a _very_ sultry voice as she drops her huge fur coat to reveal a short white dress and fishnet stockings.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Octavia groaned into her hands. Bellamy forced a polite smile at the woman on stage before waving her away.

“That was the last audition. That’s it, Bell. Game fucking over.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes. “And you say _I’m_ the dramatic one.”

His sister turns to look at him so fast he flinches back into his seat.

“Do not start with me, Bellamy Blake. Almost fifty girls and none of them resemble Clarke in the slightest. We’re screwed. This is an impossible job. Oh my God, this was such a waste of time and bus fare.”

“O, what are you even talking about? We didn’t pay the bus fare! You shoved me off the bus before it stopped just so we could skip out on paying.”

His honesty earned him a smack to the back of his head.

“Jesus Christ, okay. Look,” he said as he reached for Octavia’s wrist before she could hit him again. “You see this?” he gestures at the gold charm bracelet his sister got from the Griffin princess the night everything went to shit. “This is our ticket in. As soon as Queen Abigail sees this sucker, we're good to go. By the time she realizes the truth, we will be long gone with the $100 million. Now stop your whining and focus.”

His sister snatched her wrist out of his grip but thankfully didn’t hit him again. Instead, she focused a glare that probably would have had him dead and six feet under within a matter of seconds if it were possible.

“First of all, don’t touch me with your grimy hands again. Second, I know how important this job is to you, Bell, but we have to know when to call it quits. Just be prepared for when this job becomes impossible.”

Bellamy sighs. He knows his sister has a point, but he isn’t going to let her know that. Instead, he slides his tongue over his teeth, choosing to stay quiet.

Octavia shakes her head at him before ruffling his inky curls and walking to the corner of the room where they left their stuff. Her brother let out in indignant cry as he tried to rearrange his curls and threw a pencil at her but missed completely.

“Loser,” she barked out through her laughter.

Her stomach began growling, and, just as she was about to open her mouth and complain about their lack of food, a loud crash from the opposite side of the palace echoed through the empty hallways and rooms.

Bellamy, who had been casually balancing his chair on its back legs, was startled enough to fall onto his back with a loud bang. She watched him as he hurriedly got to his feet.

“Great job, big brother. Now the people breaking and entering know they aren’t alone,” she says dryly.

“Shut up and stay here.” He glares in her direction for good measure.

Bellamy begins creeping over to the door, reaching under his shirt to grab the gun he always keeps tucked in the waistband of his jeans. Before Octavia can say anything, he’s already out the door with the gun in his hand.

Octavia tilts her head back to look up at the ceiling before letting out a soft, frustrated groan.

“Oh my God. He’s going to get himself killed, and I’m going to be stuck living over the Exchange for the rest of my life.” Pulling the long hunting knives from the thigh sheaths hidden under her oversized tunic, she drags herself off the chair she’d been perched on and quietly followed her idiot brother into the hallway.

 

<<            >>

 

Raven was being terribly loud as she began ripping off fragments of wood that had been used to block the window that didn’t appear to have glass in. From what she had told Clara about the night the mobs took over the royal palace, Clara could only guess this was one of the windows they had broken in order to get in.

The two girls were on what appeared to be part of what was once the servant’s entrance. The doorways and windows weren’t adorned with luxurious decorations like the rest of the palace entrances were. Raven chose to come through this side because it seemed to have less boards blocking the entrances compared to everywhere else.

“You’re going to get us caught by Grounders if you don’t stop making so much noise!” Clara hissed at her companion. Clara was supposed to be acting as look out if said Grounders did make an appearance, but, instead, she was mainly just watching Raven tug at the rotting wood and kicking at it with her good leg.

Raven had finally cleared the entrance way enough for the two of them to hunch over as they walked through. She wiped her hands on her jeans before turning to Clara. She could immediately tell that the other girl was doubting the plan, but Raven could not afford to blow this.

She snatched Jasper’s beanie off Clara’s messy blonde waves and threw it through the makeshift door. “Oops, there goes your hat. I guess we’re just going to have to go in and get it. What a shame.”

Clara stared after Raven as the other girl slightly bent down before hobbling into the palace. She glanced back a few times just in case before following Raven’s lead.

While they were outside, it didn’t appear like the palace was a very well-lit place. It wasn’t much of a surprise to her when she had to blink a few times in order for her eyes to focus in the dim lighting. To Clara’s surprise, Raven was nowhere to be found.

“Raven! Raven, where did you go?” Clara whispered into the darkness.

The room remained quiet and empty until Raven suddenly popped her head in from a doorway on the far side of the room. “Come on, princess. Don’t be a wuss! Oh, here’s your hat.”

The beanie was tossed at her face, and all the dust it collected after being thrown into the abandoned building got into Clara’s mouth and nose. That lead to a minor sneeze attack, which, with the eerie echo the empty room created, sounded much louder than it actually was. By the time Clara regained her composure and had begun walking towards the doorway, Raven’s head had already disappeared. As she walked into the next room, Raven pulled a small lighter from her bag. The room was suddenly filled with the soft light the lighter provided.

Clara gazed at the room and felt her stomach drop. The room itself was massive. The door they walked through had brought them out behind a couple of white marble pillars. Directly in front of her, there was a raised platform where a white tarp covered a single large figure. Clara was drawn to the lone figure, and, without realizing, had begun walking up onto the platform and stood beside it.

Aside from Raven’s leg brace creaking with each step she took, all Clara could hear was her own breathing and the dull buzzing in her ears that seemed to grow louder the closer she got to the tarp. With a shaking hand, Clara pulled the tarp off and gasped.

There, standing before her in all its glory, was a huge throne. The chair itself much have cost a fortune because the arm rests and legs were coated in what appeared to be gold. The red velvet cushions looked clean and unmarked as if someone had taken impeccable care of it at some point. The only part of the chair that showed evidence of past use was the back-cushion wear someone’s head would rest on. The cushion there was a dark crimson stain that resembled, much to Clara’s distaste, blood.

“They say that King Roan, the last Griffin ruler, fought for his life in this very room. It took almost fifty men to pin him down and shoot him through the head in this very chair. It’s all pretty dark and morbid, don’t ya think?”

Clara, who had jumped when Raven’s voice suddenly appeared in her ear, fixed the blood-stained chair with a soft gaze. Much like Cage Wallace, the name King Roan clicked into her mind. She remembered warm laughter, being twirled around, and the smell of musk. She saw a pair of light blue eyes lit up with happiness and affection.

She turned away from the bloodied throne and glanced around the room. “It’s like a memory from a dream…” Clara trailed off.

The large room was obviously an old ballroom of sorts. There were floor to ceiling windows set in intervals that were covered in a thin sheet of ice from the cool frost that was setting in outside. The bronze painted walls between each window had framed paintings and ornate mirrors hanging on them. There were few random pieces of furniture that, like the throne, had been covered by a white tarp for protection, clumped together along the wall on one side of the room. The heavy looking wooden doors at the opposite side of the room sat nestled beneath a marble balcony that had two sets of spiral staircases leading up to it on either side. Up on the balcony, there was another set of wooden doors that must have led out to an upper level of the palace. 

“If this is all a memory from a dream, then you have a damn good imagination, princes,” Raven said as she left the platform and began crossing the room towards the wooden doors.

Clara hummed in agreement. She had followed the brunette across the room, slowly turning as she went, in hopes that something else would pop out to her. It wasn’t until she was already midway when Clara noticed the portrait leaning against what appeared to be a tall bureau. If it was an ordinary piece of art, Clara more than likely wouldn’t have even paid any attention to it. However, the fact that the canvas was torn and shredded caught her eye.

Under closer inspection, Clara realized it was a portrait of what must have been the Griffin family. There were six children total and two adults, probably the parents, in the painting. All of them were dressed in fancy clothing and had warm smiles on their faces. Of the six children, one of the daughters stuck out to Clara. She had long curly waves flowing down her shoulders and a wide toothy grin. The girl’s large eyes practically danced with laughter and the deep blue of her irises were the color of the ocean, at least what Clara imagined the ocean to look like. The beauty mark set above her mouth so closely resembled Clara’s own that her breath caught in her throat.

Clara was too busy running a hand over the ruined canvas to notice the sound of a door opening and two separate pairs of feet descending the stairs.

“What are you doing in here?” a man yelled.

Clara was so startled that she accidentally kicked the portrait and it tumbled down. She turned to see two people standing at the bottom of the stairs: one of them, the girl, had two wicked looking knives in her hands, and the other, the man, had a gun pointed at her.

Her first instinct was to run, so that’s exactly what she did. When she thinks back, Clara realized it was a stupid decision on her part, and she probably could have gotten shot. Plus, she had just abandoned her friend in a palace where the only two inhabitants appeared to be serial killers of some sort. Luckily, the man’s first instinct wasn’t to shoot. Instead, she heard him curse in surprise before taking off after her.

Despite having caught him of guard, the man was catching up to her very quickly. She was nearly to the hidden servant’s door when the man suddenly threw himself at her legs and knocked her down. The air was knocked out of her body as she landed flat on the floor with his upper body trapping her legs.

He quickly dragged her backwards before rolling her over and pinning her arms down with his knees.

“Who are you? Why are you here?” he growled.

Clara was too stunned by their close proximity. His face was so close to hers that she could see every single freckle that sprinkled over his nose and cheekbones. The brown in his eyes seemed to be never ending as she gazed up at him. Clara had been around men before back at the orphanage when Anya would invite her “friends” over, but that was around the time she had begun sleeping with one of the older girls, Lexa. After the orphanage sent Lexa off to the fish market or some odd job, Clarke was certain she was only into girls. However, being this close to a _ridiculously_ attractive man was creating a warm sensation that spread from the tips of her toes all the way up to the crown of her head. It felt like his skin was stinging hers with static electricity wherever they touched.

The only clue that Clara wasn’t the only one who felt this odd attraction was how suddenly intense the look in his eyes became, but he was quick to cover it with anger.

“Are you a mute or something? Who are you?” he asked again.

By then, the girl with the knives had reached them. She gazed down at the pair with a smirk on her face as she casually twirled one of the knives between her fingers.

“Now I’m not saying that I’m better with people or anything, but, from my experience, people tend to react better when they aren’t pinned down to the floor,” she hesitated for a moment before continuing, “Or have a gun aimed at them.”

The man ignored his companion’s obvious attempts to get him off her.

“She could be with the Grounders. I’m not moving until she starts talking. Now who – ?”

The sound of the wooden doors bursting open from the other side of the room cut him off. Knife girl immediately turned, raising her knives, prepared to fight off the new threat, before stopping all together.

“Reyes?” Knife girl squinted at the newcomer.

Clara couldn’t move to see her travel companion’s face, but the sound of her metal brace stopping before it got louder as she practically ran to the group told her that it really was Raven.

“Little Blake? Bell? Bellamy, what the hell? Get off of her! You alright there, princess?” Raven shouted once she saw Clara’s current predicament.

The man – Bellamy—still didn’t make a move to get off her, but he shifted slightly to glance at Raven from the corner of his eye. “Well, well, well. Look who the cat dragged in. What are you doing with little miss _princess_ here?”

Unlike Raven, Bellamy didn’t appear to be using the nickname as a term of endearment, rather, he seemed to use it as a curse.

“Get your own nickname, dumbass. Clara here is a friend of mine with some serious memory loss issues. She doesn’t remember anything from before ten years ago.”

Bellamy and Knife girl both turned to stare at Clara with matching incredulous looks on their faces then turned to look at each other. They appeared to be having some sort of silent argument and Knife girl was winning.

Clara, who had stayed silent through the whole exchange, figured it was time to make her move. Since Bellamy was distracted, Clara had managed to wiggle her left arm out from under his knee. She waited, praying that he hadn’t noticed, when she caught Raven’s eye. She raised an eyebrow at her before nodding as if to say, _go for it. I wanna see how this ends._

Rolling her eyes, Clara suddenly lifted her hips to knock Bellamy off balance, making him fall forward with a noise of surprise escaping his throat. He managed to catch himself before he fell forward, and Clarke took the opportunity to place both hands on his shoulders before pushing against him and effectively rolling the two of them over. Clara ended up straddling his chest before she quickly stood, leaving Bellamy on the ground with a look of amazement on his face.

Raven and the other girl started cracking up at what had just happened. Knife girl approached Clarke, extending her hand out. “I didn’t think you were much of a threat before, but you literally just knocked my brother on his ass. You need to teach me how to do that. Oh, I’m Octavia by the way.”

Clara smiled politely as she shook hands with Octavia. When they released, the other girl went to help her brother up as he still laid on his back in shock.

“Wow, Bell got you good,” Raven cackled, helping Clara wipe the dust and grime off her clothes.

“Yeah, thanks,” Clara says dryly before whirling on the girl. “Wait, where the hell did you go? Was this your plan all along? Trick the poor orphan girl into thinking you actually give a shit about her problems and dragging her here to be kidnapped?”

Raven’s smile fell and her eyes softened. “Clara, no. I had no idea any of this was going to happen. I didn’t know these two were going to be here. I hadn’t been here in years, and I wanted to look for something Finn and I left here back when we were kids. I know I should have told you, but, fuck, I really just needed to do this on my own after everything that happened today,” the girl said in almost a whisper.  

Clara hesitated slightly as she raised a hand to the other girl’s shoulder and placed it there in a pathetic attempt of comfort.

“No, I get it. Just, next time we go into some creepy abandoned house, don’t leave me on my own, alright?” Raven chuckled before nodding.

“Sure, Clara.”

“Okay, warrior princess. Reyes. O and I have a proposition for you,” Bellamy said.


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I am sorry about not updating for months! I was busy with school and then working, and it was just a lot for me to juggle. Anyways, I'm on Christmas break for about a month and a half, so hopefully I can update more often & even possibly finish this story. I put two seperate chapters in this update, so here is chapter 3 and 4. Hope you guys enjoy and, as always, let me know what you think!

Now that he was standing, Clara noticed just how tall he was. The top of her head barely reached his nose, and she still had to tilt her head back slightly to meet his eyes. His chest was also very broad with toned arms to match. He hadn’t bothered wiping himself down, and there were still large flecks of dust in his messy hair.

Clara’s hand twitched to run her fingers through the curls to get rid of all the dust, but that would be creepy and inappropriate. She tucked her fisted hands into the pockets of her coat before she did anything stupid.

“So, Clary, was it? There a last name or even a middle name? Reyes says you have some memory loss. How did that happen?” Bellamy asks, looking her up and down.

His gaze was so scrutinizing that she got the urge to cross her arms over her chest, but she refused to give him the satisfaction.

“Wrong. My name is Clara, and, as for the whole memory loss thing, I don’t know how it happened. All the matron back at TonDC told me was that the Grounders found me wandering around when I was eight years old. Look, I know it probably sounds crazy, but it’s the truth.”

Clara reached down and pulled her necklace out from underneath her shirt. “This is the only thing I have from my past, but even this doesn’t help me.”

Raven and Octavia came closer to inspect the necklace. “Ya know, you could probably sell this down at the Exchange and get a shit ton,” Raven said. At Clarke’s sharp look, she quickly continued, “But I know you wouldn’t. It was just an idea.”

Bellamy had a thoughtful expression on his face as he stared at her necklace from a distance. Clara could almost hear the gears turn in his head. He began to circle her as he looked her up and down.

“What are you doing? What, were you a vulture in another life?” Clara snapped as she whirled on him.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Clare. It’s just that you— “

“My name is Clara, not Clare,” she hissed at the infuriating man in front of her.

“Clara. I’m sorry. You just look so much like. You know what? That is not important. Anyways! Why were the two of you breaking and entering into the old Griffin palace?” Bellamy stole a quick glance at Clara’s face as the words let his mouth.

“Well, ya’ see, about that. The only reason we were here is because Clara here has been having random memories resurface whenever I mention the Griffin family and anything related to them. So, being as clever as I am, I decided to bring her out here and see if anything triggered a whole epiphany and she remembered that she’s a Griffin and is rich and will adopt me as part of the family,” Raven declared, sending a mischievous smirk over at Clara as the other girl chuckled.

Octavia, who had been strangely quiet, suddenly spoke up. “What kinda memories have been coming back?”

Clara hesitated slightly. She searched the younger girl’s face for traces of any insincerity or judgment, but all she found was curiosity. She took a deep breath before diving into her explanation. She talked about the conversation Raven and she had when they left Jasper and Monty’s car on the side of the road. She mentioned Jasper’s declarations of Clara resembling a princess, how she felt when Raven mentioned Cage Wallace and the attack on Griffin castle, the memories that came to mind when she mentioned King Roan, and even how the castle itself seemed familiar to her. While she had been talking, Raven took it upon herself to drag the ruined portrait Clara had been observing before the Blake siblings burst in, over to the group.

“See? They literally look exactly the same! Princess here could totally be the lost Griffin princess!”  Raven yelled enthusiastically.

Octavia nodded. “I can totally see it. You even have the same beauty mark as her.”

“Clara, Octavia and I are headed to Arkadia in the morning. See, if my gut is right, and it usually is, you will find exactly what you’ve been looking for if you come with us.”

Clara thought about the chances of her being potentially kidnapped or murdered by these people if she went with them, and they were high. Then, she considered how her only other options were to wander around aimlessly in a country that she barely even knew her around or to turn back and work at the horrible fish market the rest of her life.

After a moment of thought, Clara found herself nodding.

“Okay, I’ll go. On one condition, Raven comes with us.”

Bellamy was already shaking his head before the words fell out of Clara’s mouth. “Nope. No way. This is a three-person gig.”

“Why can’t she come?” Clara glanced between the two siblings, a single eyebrow raised questioningly.

“Yeah, why can’t I come, Blake?” Raven came to stand shoulder to shoulder with Clara, both girls crossing their arms in eerie synchronization. 

Bellamy looked towards his sister for help, but Octavia simply shrugged as if to say, “you’re on your own.” He physically deflated as he sighed in defeat. 

“Fine. Reyes can come, but, if you slow us down, so help me God— “

Raven described quite vividly where Bellamy could shove his head, and Octavia pushed them both towards the stairs before they could rip each other to shreds.

“May I present, Her Royal Highness, the Grand Duchess Clarke!” Octavia crowed as Clara ascended the staircase. Raven and Octavia made dramatic arm gestures, as if guiding her up. Bellamy huffed, pushing past the three girls, while Clara cackled at their actions and attempted to do a curtsy as she followed the old grouch.

Above the group of young delinquents, hidden up high in the dusty rafters, a small bat, that goes by the name of Emerson, was watching. “Clarke? Ha, only one problem there, buddy. Clarke’s dead. All the Griffins are dead.”

Behind Emerson, a small vial full of a thick, red liquid began to glow for the first time in nearly a decade.

“They’re dead. Dead, dead dead. Am I right, my friend?” he turned to look back at the vial. The skull-shaped cork that sealed the vial popped off and began to let out smoke that reeked of sulfur.

“What in the world?” Emerson glanced between the smoking vial, back to the four humans’ backs, and back toward the vial. “So, you mean—oh, come on. Am I really supposed to believe that this thing woke up after all these years just because some kids claim that she’s a Griffin?”

As if answering him, the vial’s glow brightens so intensely that Emerson must squint his eyes, and the sulfur smell grows stronger.

“Okay, okay. I get the message. Enough already with the glowing and the disgusting egg smell. For Christs’ sake.” The small bat shakes his head. “If this stupid thing has really come back to life, then that must mean that Clarke’s alive. And if she’s alive, then— “

Before Emerson could finish his sentence, the thin cord that was looped through the skull-shape top wrapped itself around his paw and floated up into the air. Emerson couldn’t even shout in surprise before the vial drove its way down through the creaky, old floorboards, and into the earth. Emerson had no idea how many layers of the earth there were until he, unfortunately, got up close and personal with each one of them.

Finally, the vial stopped dragging him through different disgusting layers and settled on the emptiest and depressing of them all. Emerson was dropped onto a cold, hard rocky surface and could immediately feel how sore and bruised his body is going to feel for the next few days. Or possibly even weeks.

“Ow! I tell you what…ow!” Emerson mumbled to himself. He dragged himself up off the ground and shook his sore muscles out. He was in the midst of shaking the dust and grime out from his fur when a booming voice stopped him cold.

“Who dares intrude my solitude?”

Oh no, please no, he thought. He slowly turned and a grimace automatically landed on his lips.

“Get out! Out!”

There, in all his pathetic glory, was his former master, Cage Wallace, approaching the rock slab he was currently perched on. Emerson, who had closed his eyes, cursing whatever deities that were listening and had granted him such horrible luck, was suddenly swung up into the air for the second time today. His eyes flew open to see the horrifying sight of Wallace’s decaying face a few inches from his own. When he opened his voice to speak, the absolute worst smell Emerson had ever encountered seeped into his nostrils and mouth, making him want to gag.

“Emerson? Is that you?” his walking corpse of a master said.

Sighing, “Yes, master. It’s me. If you don’t mind me asking, how in the holy hell are you even alive right now? I thought old Queen Griffin drowned you when you grabbed the little Griffin daughter.”

Apparently, Emerson’s crude description of his former master’s death was a touchy subject still, because the man visibly flinched at the bat’s words.

“I’m obviously still alive, you, fleabag. Well, in a manner of speaking at least.”

One of Cage’s eyeballs practically slid out of his eye socket with such a disgusting sound that made Emerson actually gag this time. “Oh, jeez. That fell right out there, sir.”

Emerson wiggled out of his grasp and climbed up his body to pop the eyeball back into place. When it was back in place, the other eyeball popped out.

“Something’s happened,” Wallace said.

Emerson, who was too distracted placing the other eyeball back into place, simply said, “Yeah. You’re falling apart. That’s what’s happened.”

As if on cue, Wallace’s lips somehow slid down his disgustingly mangled beard.

“Whoopsie,” the corpse-like man giggled like a child. “I can feel the dark forces stirring, Emerson.”

The bat slid down his master’s robes and onto his beard to push Wallace’s lips back in place. He vigorously wiped his tiny paws on his robes before answering, “I can’t say I’m surprised. I did just happen to see her. Clarke.”

Cage Wallace snapped his head down so fast that Emerson was surprised that didn’t snap off next.

“You’re kidding!” he shouted, grabbing at Emerson once again. “That Griffin brat!”

Emerson, who was wiggling out of Wallace’s grasp before he ended up getting the life squeezed out of him, simply replied, “Yeah, ain’t that a kick in the head? Guess curses just aren’t what they used to be.”

Wallace dramatically collapsed on the ground, slinging an arm over his eyes. He let out a frustrated yell. “That little brat is the reason I’m stuck here! My curse hasn’t been fulfilled, so I can’t move on! This is unbelievable and just my luck. Look at me, Emerson. I’m falling apart!” he wailed.

Emerson climbed up to sit on the man’s chest, staring down at his decaying face. “Well, uh, considering how long you’ve been down here, ya’ don’t look half bad.”

Cage swung his arm off and gazed up at the bat. “Really? You think so?”

Being this close to him set Emerson in a front row seat for his disgusting breath. Partially holding his own breath, Emerson answered as convincingly as he could, “C’mon, sir. Would I lie to you? Anyways, you had your old spark back when I first got here. The way you were yelling and stomping around, I was terrified!”

Wallace raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yes! Are you kidding? I thought my life was about to be cut short! You had me letting out pellets, sir!”

Wallace let out a slightly menacing, slightly insane laugh for a few seconds before cutting off suddenly.

“If only I hadn’t lost the gift from the dark forces. My life would have been complete ages ago. I would have eradicated the Griffins. All memory of them would be wiped from existence. But, no! I can’t even do that right,” Wallace wailed for the millionth time.

What a pathetic, drama queen, Emerson thought. He squinted at Wallace.

“Wait, you mean the stupid thing that glows all the time and smells like your—uh,” Emerson stopped himself before he made the mistake of insulting this lunatic. “Anyways, I have your glowy thingy. It’s actually what dragged me down here.”

Emerson flapped his little wings as much as he could to get back onto the slab of rock he landed on to grab the vial, which was still smoking and letting out a rancid smell.

“This thing! This is what brought me here,” he said, carrying it slightly to make sure it was in Wallace’s line of sight.

“Where did you get that?”

Emerson shrugged. “I found it,” was all the bat said.

“Give it to me!” Wallace snatched at the vial, almost hitting Emerson off the slab.

“All right, all right. Don’t get so grabby!” the bat cried, flying a few inches in the air to avoid falling. He’s had enough bruises and slamming into hard surfaces for one day, thank you very much.

“Well, well, well. My old friend, together again. Now I can finally fulfill my dark purpose in life and get rid of the last of the Griffins. Forever!”

Emerson found himself watching his old master coming up with the most insane and harsh plans to get rid of the last Griffin heir. He saw the vial let out an orb of smoke, which churned and twisted for a moment before showing an image of the Griffin girl and the other three humans she was with back in the palace. They were climbing aboard a steam engine back in St. Petersburg, most likely headed to Paris, like he overheard them talking about. Wallace continued to watch the vision of the group, while petting the vial and with the creepiest smile painted on his lips.

Wallace whispered a few words to the vial, and, as if responding to him, it let out a series of hissing noises, before a trail of red smoke shot out and up through the ceiling. A maniacal laugh left Wallace’s decomposing form as they watched the image of the blonde girl who had no idea what kind of nightmarish things were coming her way.

Sighing, Emmerson shook his head. Yup, he thought, it was like nothing had ever changed. This man is a total nutcase.

 

<<                               >>

 

Bellamy had left the girls to decide on a train cart, while he went to the dining cart to get a shot or two of whisky that he somehow knew he would need in order to get through the trip. When he found them, he sighed exasperatedly.

“Oh, the tag along gets the window seat, huh?”

Across from Clara and beside Octavia, was Raven fucking Reyes. His own personal pain in the ass, but, based on his and Clara’s meeting, he thinks that might change very quickly. Raven lifted her head from where it was buried in a beat-up journal to meet his gaze.

“Ya snooze, ya lose, buddy,” was all she said before turning back to the journal.

He snorted before throwing himself into the bench seat beside Clara, who was staring out the window. Shaking his head, Bellamy turned to Octavia to make sure she had started on the travel papers.

“I got it, big brother. Everything is nice and blue, just like you asked. Or, should I say, ordered,” she said mischievously. He playfully swatted at her and opened his mouth to shoot back a sarcastic response but was cut off by Reyes. 

“Clara, these drawings are really amazing. You’ve got a talent, girly.”

At first, the other girl didn’t respond or even seem to hear Raven’s words. Bellamy nudged her slightly and snapped her out of her revere. “Huh? Oh, thanks, Raven,” was all she said.

“You good?” Clara nodded with a small smile plastered on her face.

Raven raised an eyebrow. Bellamy knew that look all too well. It was usually directed to him when she knew damn well that he was lying, and he knew how much he squirmed when those piercing brown eyes seemed to be staring directly at his soul. It was one of his least favorite things about being associated with Raven Reyes.

“Hey, stop slouching. You’re supposed to be a princess, so you better start acting like one,” he snapped at the blonde girl.

For a moment, a grateful look passed over her face before she scowled up at him. He noticed her fiddling with a gold pendant hanging around her neck. “And, for Christs’ sake, stop fiddling with that thing.”

Clara immediately tucked the pendant back under her collar, her pink lips still turned down in a scowl. “Oh? And how exactly would you know what a princess does or does not do?”

“I make it my business to know, _Princess_ ,” he emphasized her supposed title. “Look, Clara, I am just trying to help alright?”

Her tongue slid over her teeth, making her beauty mark stand out slightly more for a moment, before a sweet smile took over her face.

“Bellamy, do you really think I’m royalty?”

He shot her his most charismatic smile. “Oh, you know I do.”

As fast as it appeared, her sweet smiled disappeared and twisted back into a scowl. “Then stop bossing me around!”

He watched her jaw tense and tighten up in frustration. Her bright blue eyes seemed to dance with defiance. For a second, Bellamy saw the Griffin princess in this orphan girl. He saw her fiery spirit and stubborn set of her jaw when King Roan or Queen Abby told her not to do something. The princess’ refusal to be ordered around and told what to do was one of his favorite traits about her, and seeing the exact same behavior in Clara’s behavior threw him off.

The sound of Raven and Octavia’s laughing snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Clara one, Bellamy nada!” Raven cackled. Beside him, Clara snorted unattractively in an obvious attempt to keep from laughing. Octavia, who clearly enjoyed seeing her brother being told off by someone other than her, was laughing so hard she was almost in tears.

“I hate all of you,” Bellamy said under his breath as he rose from his seat.

“Where are you going?” Octavia managed to hiccup out.

Instead of answering her, Bellamy rolled his eyes and slid out of the train cart’s door.

“Oh, I need another drink,” he said to himself as he made his way back to the train’s dining cart in search of something stronger than whiskey.

 

 

 

 

  **CHAPTER 4**

 

Once Bellamy had managed to convince the bartender on duty to slip him some pure Russian vodka, and he got a little friendly with a blonde waitress named Bree, he decided to return to the train cart his travel companions were hopefully still inhabiting.

When he got to the cart, he found Raven sprawled out on the bench that her and Octavia had been sitting in before, and Clarke was still nestled next to the window. However, this time, the blonde woman had the old, worn-out journal Raven had been looking through earlier on her lap. It took Bellamy a moment to realize that Clara was actually drawing in it, well, at least trying to despite the train’s shakiness.

“Where’s Octavia?”

Clara didn’t say anything at first. For a second he thought she was going to ignore his question and was about to kick her boot, when she finally spoke, “O went for a walk. She said she doesn’t do well in cramped places.”

Nodding, Bellamy collapsed onto the bench next to her, slightly jostling the arm holding the pencil. Clara shot him a dark look, which he returned with a cheeky smile.

She simply rolled her eyes before turning back to her work. It was silent for a moment or two, but, for Bellamy, it felt like eternity. He was never good at handling awkward or uncomfortable silences, so he broke it.

“Look, princess, I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

He had barely even gotten the words out before sending a curt, “I think we did, too, but I appreciate your apology,” his way.

“Apology? Whoa, who said anything about an apology? I was just saying— “

Clara slammed her notebook shut with a frustrated growl, “Please stop talking. Just don’t. It’s only going to upset me.”

Normally, Bellamy would have a sarcastic reply for her prissy ass, but the alcohol in his system had calmed him down considerably. Instead, he stretched out like a cat and crossed his arms, fully prepared to take a nap like Raven was.

“Fine. How ‘bout this, I’ll be quiet if you will.”

Clara crossed her arms and stared out the window once again.

“Alright, I’ll be quiet.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Fine”

“Fi— “Clarke was cut off by Raven shooting up from her slumber and glaring at the pair.

“You two are the most infuriating, childish, most ridiculous people I have ever had the misfortune of meeting! La tensión sexual aquí es prácticamente sofocante. Por favor, solo consigue una maldita habitación.” Raven yelled at the pair before grabbing her red trench coat and stomping out of the cart.

Bellamy and Clara glanced at each other before laughing at their friend’s sudden transition to Spanish. When their laughter subsided, Bellamy went back to trying to sleep, and Clara was fiddling with her necklace and staring out the window once more.

“Think you’ll miss it?” Clara burst out. She didn’t mean to ask the question, but she was thinking so much about her past that she was practically bursting at the seams. She was ashamed of how little she would miss her time at the orphanage and all the people she’s met in her life, which isn’t exactly much but still.

“Miss what? Your talking?” Bellamy grumbled out.

Clara turned to look at him, and all she could see was the messy curls on his head. His face was obscured by his arms and thick winter coat.

“No,” she snapped at him, “Mount Weather, you Neanderthal.”

“Nope.”

She was slightly taken aback by his immediate answer. “What? Why not? It was your home. That’s where you and Octavia are from.”

A strange sound escaped Bellamy’s throat, and it took Clara a moment to realize it was a muffled laugh.

“It was a place I once lived. That’s it.”

“So then are you planning on making Paris your home?” Clara asked.

Bellamy finally raised his head from beneath his arms. His brown eyes squinted up at her blue ones, and, only for a moment, Clara felt a strange sense of familiarity. Those brown eyes and freckles sprinkled across his nose tickled something at the back of her mind, an old memory of sorts.

“What is it with you and homes? They’re not a big deal. Not everyone has to have a home, Princess.”

Clara frowned.

“Well, for one thing, it’s something that every normal person wants. For another thing, you...” she trailed off.

“What? I what?”

Shaking her head, Clara turned back to the window. “Forget it,” she snapped at him.

Bellamy stared at her blonde waves and watched as her hand dropped down to fiddle with her pendant once again. For some strange reason, he felt the sudden urge to embrace Clara. His hand had reached out without him realizing it, and was mere centimeters from her arm, when the cart door slid open.

“Hey guys, I didn’t know Raven knew so much Spanish. I just ran into her and the hallway, and what happened in here?” Octavia glanced between the pair of them. Unfortunately, she caught Bellamy snatch his arm back and saw the perplexed expression on his face fall back into his usual annoyed one. Clara jumped from her seat beside the window for the first time since their train ride began.

“Oh, thank God. Keep your brother away from me,” Clara bit out as she passed Octavia and slid out the door.

Octavia stared after Clara for a moment before turning back to her brother. Bellamy had settled his mop of curls back against the seat, with his arms both slung over his face. She kicked at his worn-out boots before sprawling out across from him.

He grunted when she kicked at his boots again and slightly moved his arms so one of his eyes watched Octavia.

She raised an eyebrow at her idiot of a brother. “What did you do to our little princess?” she asked, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees.

“Bell, hey, I’m talkin’ to you!” she slapped his thigh.

Bellamy grunted again.

“Stop acting like a fucking child, and answer me damn it.”

“What do you want from me? I didn’t do anything to her! It isn’t my fault she can’t handle being told no.”

Octavia smirked. She had never seen a girl undo her brother’s suave façade as easily as Clara did. Normally, Bellamy was calm, slightly manipulative, but very flirtatious. He had always been like that, especially when they continued working at Griffin palace after their mother died. Without her protection, Bellamy had to step it up and make sure none of the other servants stepped all over them or tried harming her. With Clara, however, all that smooth talking and charisma seemed to be thrown out the window. Normally, she was the only one who could get him all riled up and pissed. It was refreshing to see that not all women could fall victim to her idiot brother’s charm.

“So that’s what it is,” Octavia said, crossing her heavy combat boots on his knee. “An unspoken attraction.”

Bellamy shot up so fast that her legs slid out from under her. “Hey, what the fu—? “

“An unspoken attraction? To that annoying, little brat? Are you insane?” Bellamy shouted.

“Well, Bellamy, there must be something about her because I have never seen you get so riled up by a woman before. Besides,” Octavia grin turned razor sharp, “there must be some reason you keep staring at that pretty little face and chest of hers.”

His mouth was hanging open for a few seconds before he snapped it shut and left the cart without another word.

Octavia laughed softly to herself.

Oh, big brother. What is this girl doing to you?

 

<<                               >>

 

Once again, Bellamy found himself making his way to the dining cart to seek company in a glass or two of vodka and that leggy waitress, Bree. However, unlike the last time, he wasn’t alone at the bar.

Raven was seated at the bar with her eyes closed, nursing a glass of whiskey, and humming off-key to some random tune in her head.

“Hey there, hop along,” Bellamy said as he hopped onto the stool beside his friend. He caught the attention of the bartender, signaling for the same drink Raven had, and slipping the man on the other side of the bar a bill in thanks.

Without opening her eyes, Raven let out a mumbled “Piss off, Blake,” without the usual bite behind it.

“So, you gonna talk to me, Reyes?”

Raven threw back whatever was left in her cup before turning on her stool, resting her elbows on the bar as she people watched. “Ain’t nothing to talk about.”

He could hear her slight Spanish accent seeping into her words, which only happened when she was extremely upset. He should know. He’s upset her countless times over the years, but this was different. He could practically feel the pain and anger radiating off Raven.

“Lying isn’t your forte. Stick to what you’re good at,” was all he said. Bellamy knew pushing her wouldn’t help anyone, so he let it go.

They remained silent for a while. Bellamy drank his whiskey, while Raven watched the other travelers come and go. He took the chance to think of what Octavia had said about Clarke and his being attracted to her. The idea itself was ridiculous to him. Despite his “player” and flirtatious reputation back in Mount Weather, Bellamy had never actually been attracted to any of the women he hooked up with. The last person to be able to keep his attention was Gina, and that hadn’t ended very well for him. After her, he chose to stick with what he was good at, meaning one-night stands and hook-ups without any emotional complications. Clara would definitely not be an exception, and he is certain that she would never give him the time of day. So, he had absolutely nothing to worry about.

“That waitress keeps staring over here,” Raven interrupted his thoughts.

He turned to see who she was talking about and immediately sent Bree a smirk and a wink.

“One of your latest conquests?” Raven asked slyly.

“Something like that,” Bellamy says, sending Raven a crooked smile.

She laughed humorlessly. “Been there, done that. Wasn’t really impressed if we’re being honest.”

Bellamy’s smile fell as he watched Raven slide off the stool and began hobbling towards the exit. He spared one last glance at Bree before following his friend out. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean? Raven!”

He heard his friend laugh, a genuine laugh this time, as she hobbled ahead of him down the hallway. Bellamy had sped up and was just grabbing her arm to turn her around and question what she said about his performance—or lack of—when Octavia came barreling around the corner.

“Guys, we got a problem!” she said breathlessly. “I hate this government. Everything is in red, damn it.” She raised the travel papers she had just finished filling out an hour or so ago, except these were done in blue.

“Oh, that’s just fucking perfect,” Raven sighed. That perfectly summed up Bellamy’s thoughts on the subject.

“Great. Okay. You two grab the luggage, and I’ll grab Clara,” he told the girls. They nodded as the three of them departed back to their train cart as fast as they could with Raven in tow.

When Octavia slid the train cart open, her and Raven fell through the door and grabbed all the bags from off the railings above their heads. Luckily, Clara was snoring softly in the corner in her seat beside the window. He told the other two girls to meet him at the baggage cart before he turned to their blonde companion.

“Clara, hey. Clara?” Bellamy whispered as softly as he could, trying his hardest not to startle her. The only response he got out of Clara was a low moan. Out in the hall, he could faintly hear officers at the far side of the hall questioning passengers for their travel papers.

Oh, for fucks’ sake, he thought.

“Clara! We gotta go,” he whispered again. When there was no response from the sleeping girl, he gave up the gentle pretense and roughly shook her by the arm.

That ended up being a mistake. As soon as he shook her, Clara’s eyes shot open and her arm swung out and struck him in the nose.

“I am so sorry! Oh, it’s you. Well, that’s totally okay then,” Clara said, blinking the sleep out of her eyes.

Bellamy glared at the girl as he held a hand to his nose. He could feel blood dripping down his face and down his chin.

“You really need to stop hitting me. It’s getting real old, Princess.”

Clara rolled her eyes. “Men are such babies.”

“Oh, shove it. C’mon, we gotta go!” Bellamy grabbed her meager belongings and then her arm as he ushered her out the door.

“What? Where are we going? Bellamy, what the hell?” Clara cried as he dragged her after him down the hallway.

“Hey! You there, stop!”

One of the Grounder officers searching for travel papers called out to them and began pursuing the pair as they rushed around a corner.

“Run, Clara. I’m going to need you to run,” Bellamy told her. Before she could protest, he tightened his hold on her arm and took off running. Luckily, Clara realized the importance of them not getting caught, so she ran with him without questions or argument.

“Oi! Stop running!” the officer continued to shout after them.

Bellamy and Clara dodged and weaved through passengers and down hallways. The officer’s yells and shouts became fainter as they went deeper into the train. She prayed that he knew where he was going and that they weren’t aimlessly running from the officer. As if Bellamy heard her prayers, he pushed his way through a wrought iron door, tugging her in after him, before slamming it shut. He stayed leaning against it for a moment or two, making sure that the officer chasing them wasn’t outside, before turning to her.

“Bell? That you?” Octavia’s voice called out from behind Clara.

She turned to see Octavia and Raven pop their heads out from behind a tower of wooden boxes and suitcases. In the faint light that a small lantern hanging above Bellamy’s head gave off, Clara could see Octavia’s twin knives gleaming as their owner raised them, ready to use if necessary.

“The baggage cart? Why are we in here? And why did you have me running from a Grounder officer just to get here?” Clara whirled on Bellamy.

“Geniuses one and two thought the travel papers were filled out in blue ink this year, so that’s how they did ours. Turns out they’re actually red this year, hence us hanging out in this freezing cart and why you had to haul ass from that Grounder,” Raven explained as she pulled herself onto a tall wooden box.

“I thought you two knew what you were doing?” Clara asked the siblings.

For the first time since they met this girl, Octavia could see the haughty tilt to her chin, the way her back straightened to perfection, the prim and proper way she spoke, and just the way she carried herself. It was like working underneath the Griffin family all over again. Octavia subconsciously reached for the charm bracelet her old princess friend gave to her the night all hell broke loose, but she stopped herself.

“Sorry, princess. Even people as good as us make mistakes. Please forgive your loyal servants,” Bellamy said flatly.

Clara rolled her eyes at Bellamy’s idiocy before turning to Raven and speaking softly to her.

“Hey, Raven, so what did you mean it wasn’t all that good?” Bellamy approached their friend’s seat on the box.

Raven had the biggest shit eating smile on her face as she kicked her heels against the box like a child. “Oh, you know, I just wasn’t fully satisfied with my experience, Blake. Nothing to be ashamed of. You can’t please everyone, sweetie.”

Octavia laughed, knowing damn well what Raven was referring to, while, Bellamy, on the other hand, practically glared holes into the side of her head. Clara looked around at her travel companions, completely confused as to what they were talking about, and was about to say so when the sound of tearing metal came from the iron door they had just come through.

“What the fu—?” all four of them said in unison. Bellamy went to check what the source of the sound was when the entire cart wrenched forward, knocking all of them off their feet.

Raven went flying off the wooden box and slid towards the other door leading to the engine room and coal cart. Octavia thought fast enough to dig her knives into the wooden floor to stop any further movement as she was thrown off her feet. Bellamy and Clara, of course, had the most dysfunctional landing out of the group. Bellamy was on top of Clara’s legs and part of her chest, while the box Raven had been sitting on moments before was pinning Bellamy’s entire torso and left arm.

“What was that?” Raven yelled from the other side of the cart. Octavia shook her head as she rose to stand.

“I don’t know, but there goes the dining cart,” Octavia sighed, gesturing with one of her knives.

Bellamy had finally managed to wiggle out from between the wooden box and Clara, and he stood to see the dining cart slowing down about fifty feet behind them. He was still on his knees when Clara put a hand on his shoulder, leaning down so her mouth was level with his ear.

“Still got it under control, my loyal servant?” was all she said. 

A chuckle bubbled up in his throat, but he managed to shove it back down. He sent Clara a tight-lipped smile. “Of course, Your Highness. The conductor and engineer will realize that the entire back part of the train is missing, and they’ll stop and fix it. No big deal!”

“Uh, I hate to put a dent in that brilliant little plan of yours, but I’m about ninety-five percent sure that our engine is currently burning up,” Raven said from the back of the cart. They looked back to see her trying to balance on her toes, peeking her head through the window on the back door.

Clara, Octavia, and Bellamy all strode over to the back door as Raven threw the door open. The three of them stopped short when they saw the orange glow coming from the head of the train.

Bellamy and Clara both stepped back at the same time and met each other’s eyes. It was like they had an unspoken connection because Clara seemed to know exactly what he was planning to do and was shaking her head before he had even started removing his coat.

“Don’t do it, Bellamy. You could get hurt or worse!” she practically shouted at him. Her words were like what Octavia had said was the only reason she was going to go along with his crazy plans, to keep him from getting himself killed or worse: arrested. The resemblance caught him off guard, especially considering how much Clara seemed to hate him not moments ago. Why would she suddenly care now?

Octavia and Raven both whirled around at the sound of Clara’s voice. His sister rolled her eyes, already knowing his hero complex was going to take over, and no one would be able to stop him.

“I’m just gonna check it out, Princess. Nothing to worry about,” Bellamy said as he pushed past the girls and made his way to the ladder on the back of the next cart. The sound of Clara’s protests was drowned out by the time he got to the top of the ladder and began walking on top of the cart’s load. Unfortunately, it was an entire cart full of coal, which isn’t the most stable surface to walk on at extremely high speeds. Bellamy was crouched low and practically crab-walking over the lumps of coal, when he felt the coal shift behind him.

“What the hell, Raven?” he yelled. He turned to see Raven was pulling her legs over the edge of the cart and onto the coal. He helped her gain her bearings before shaking her by the shoulders.

“Do you have a death wish or something? Why would you come up here knowing damn well that your leg is--?” Bellamy trailed off.

“Knowing that my leg is what?” Raven snarled, swinging her head so that her ponytail was swishing back and forth. “Just because my leg is jacked up, doesn’t mean jack squat. I’m not the same kid you slept with all those years ago, Blake. I’m a mechanic. I’ve worked on steam engines so many times I could probably take apart the engine and put it back together in my sleep. So, don’t even try to tell me that I can’t do something, so get your ass in gear, and let me figure out what’s wrong with this damn train. Now let’s go!”

Raven knocked his arms away from her shoulders, shoving past him to awkwardly crouch and walk on the uneven surface. Sighing, Bellamy followed suit but kept close to the younger girl just in case she did go sideways or get knocked over thanks to her bum leg.

She got to the end of the cart and pitched herself over the edge to climb the ladder down before Bellamy could even offer to help. He followed suit, and, by the time he reached the bottom of the ladder, Raven was already at the engineer’s chair analyzing the gauges and attempting to pull levers and turn dials. He had no idea what any of these things were, so he was partially glad that she had decided to come yet still pissed because she was putting both of them at risk. From the looks of it, Raven was the only one in the compartment. Both the conductor and engineer were gone.

If the string of curses coming out of Raven’s mouth wasn’t a tell-tale sign that something was definitely wrong, the sharp whistling coming from one of the gauges as it was twitching in the red marked area of the dial and the amount of heat and smoke from the radiator would have.

“So, we’re basically fucked. There’s obviously no one driving this train, and the engine is about to blow!” she yelled over everything. It took him a moment to register what she said before he was yanking her out of the cart and pushing her back up the ladder. Apparently that bum leg of hers wasn’t slowing her down much because as soon as she cleared the first ladder, she was staggering faster than he’s ever seen her move over the coal and practically leaped down into the luggage cart.

“Where’s Bell?” he heard his sister ask Raven before he jumped down onto the cart couplings. All three girls jumped back when he straightened out. Octavia looked like she was trying to hold back a relieved expression, while Clara was holding up Raven as the other girl struggled to catch her breath. Clara had schooled her features into their usual calm and collected arrangement.

“So, what’s the damage?” she asked.

Bellamy shook his head and looked to Raven, who was already staring at him from her bent over position on Clara’s side. “There’s no one driving the train. The engine has been blown to shit and is ready to burst any minute now. We need to get out of here,” Raven told the group.

“We’re going to have to jump,” Bellamy said, entering the cart, and making his way to the side door.

“I’m sorry, Bell. I think I misheard you because it sounded like you just said, for the second time to me today, that we’re going to have to jump,” Octavia stomped over to her brother as he tugged on the door to slide it open. He threw it open and was face to face with open air.

Octavia stuck her head out, looking out at the huge abyss they were currently riding over. “After you,” was all she said to her brother.

“We’re going to have to uncouple the cars,” Raven said from behind the siblings. They looked back to see Clara holding a pained looking Raven from around the waist. The Blakes made eye contact. Octavia shrugged as if to say, “we don’t have any better ideas.”

“Alright, fine. I’m gonna need a wrench or an axe. Something strong enough to break that coupling,” Bellamy ordered the girls.

“Bell!” Octavia shouted, throwing a hammer she pulled out from what looked like some sort of tool box. He caught the tool midair and strode back out to the cart couplings.

He couldn’t think of a practical way to do this, so he just began hitting the couplings as hard as he could muster.

Inside, the girls scrambled around looking for something stronger.

Raven, who had finally separated herself from Clara’s side, was hobbling back and forth trying to come up with a way to get her and her friends out of there alive. Octavia was digging around in the tool bag once more, while Clara was peeking in different boxes in hopes of finding something useful. After a second or so, Raven grunted in frustration and kicked at a stack of boxes with her good leg.

“Damn it! We need something better than a little hammer. We need something…an explosive or something. Something to go boom.”

Clara watched her new friend tug at her pony tail in frustration. Clara pursed her lips, and her gaze slowly dropped down to the boxes Raven kicked over. She noticed one of the boxes had words stamped on the side. Clara turned her head sideways and grinned. “Well, Reyes, looks like I found your boom.”

Raven and Octavia both looked over at Clara, confusion written on both of their faces. She nudged the lid off with her boot and pulled out a stick of dynamite to show the other two girls. Their looks of confusion instantly melted into matching wicked grins.

“Boom.”

 

<<                           >>

 

Bellamy was hacking at the coupling as hard as he could, but it was obvious he wasn’t doing anything.

“For fucks’ sake, there’s gotta be something better than this!” he yelled. A pale hand shoved a lit dynamite stick in his face.

“Now, that’s what I’m talking about!” he crowed, shoving the stick into a small gap between each coupling.

The girls scrambled behind a huge box laying on its side, and Bellamy jumped over it to crouch behind them. He wrapped his arms around the three of them with hopes of protecting them as much as he could. They all tucked their heads down just as an explosion shook the entire train cart. Bellamy raised his head and squinted is eyes to try and see through the smoke. The coupling had separated from the first two train carts, and the luggage cart was slightly slowing down.

“Well, at least we’re slowing down. We’ve got plenty of track, so, at this rate, we could totally just coast to a stop!” Raven told her companions, praying nothing else would happen to prove her words wrong. She slowly began to rise from behind their makeshift barrier. Beside her, Octavia and Bellamy did the same. Raven noticed that Clara wasn’t next to her anymore as the group began to hesitantly approach the head of the train cart.

Looking around, she saw that the other girl was still crouched on the wooden floor, staring off in the direction of what was left of the backdoor. Raven knelt beside Clara, but she didn’t seem to acknowledge her presence. She tried following the other girl’s gaze but couldn’t see what was holding her attention.

An explosion shook the entire cart, knocking the Blakes and Raven off balance and successfully breaking Clara out of her revere.

Raven whipped around, and the sight that she came face to face with made her heart sink. Apparently whatever gods were listening, they were not on their side. A huge chunk of upcoming track that ran along a narrow bridge over an impressively deep chasm had just been blown to bits. A strange red hue was left hanging in the air around the remains of the bridge from whatever caused the explosion.

“There should be a brake lever or something in the front of the cart. If we can slow this baby down before we reach the bridge, we won’t have to worry about being blown to bits.” Raven said, dodging around Bellamy and Octavia as they were still staring in shock at the cause of their next problem.

She found a dial attached to a long metal pole that she could only assume was the cart’s brakes. Raven likes to think she has a decent amount of upper body strength from years of working in a mechanic shop and lugging around large parts and whatnot. So, when she tugged and worked to turn the dial and it didn’t budge at all, she was a little insulted.

“Ay, yo, Bellamy! Get your ass over here!” Raven shouted, reminding the elder Blake on their problem at hand.  

Without needing to be told what to do, Bellamy nudged Raven back before taking her spot and trying his damn hardest to turn the dial. She left him to figure out how to get the thing to move when she heard the rattle of chains.

Octavia and Clara had found a length of chain with a grappling hook attached at one end. The pair made their way to what was left of the front door, dragging the chain along with them. It took Raven a second to figure out what exactly they were planning to do with it, and a second was apparently all they needed because next thing she knew, Octavia was practically dangling off the cart with Clara grasping one of her arm’s in a death grip.

“Octavia, no! What the hell are you doing? Get my sister away from that!” Bellamy bellowed from the corner where the brake was sat. Like some stereotypical hothead, the angrier he got, the stronger he was because, by the time the words left his mouth, the head of the brake had snapped off completely.

“Oh, great job, Blake! Now we’re definitely screwed!” Raven yelled, but he paid no attention to her.

Bellamy practically knocked her off her feet in his rush to get to his sister.

Octavia had already released the grappling hook and let it attach to one of the wooden track pieces. The hook managed to grasp one of the wooden pieces and clung on, making the entire luggage cart suddenly lurch forward and then backward. Octavia, who was using Clara’s hold on her arm to pull herself up as the other girl clung to a chunk of metal protruding out from leftover debris, ended up slipping off her foothold and her entire body fell back.

Bellamy was thrown into Raven when the cart lurched, and they tumbled into and were buried by several boxes and suitcases. Clara screamed and reached out to grab onto something that would help her pull Octavia back up. The train’s speed was too much for the wood and the hook gave away after a few seconds, throwing everyone off their feet. Clara somehow managed to connect with the younger girl’s jacket and pulled her back up right when the wooden pieces flew out from underneath the cart.

The two girls fell onto the floor in a heap and quickly untangled themselves in time to see the wood pieces collide with a near-by tree and shatter into hundreds of pieces.

“And to think that could have been you,” Clara said dryly. Octavia let out a breathless laugh as she met the blonde’s eyes.

“If we live through this, remind me to thank you,” was all the younger girl said.

“Octavia Aurora Blake, what is the matter with you?”

The girls turned to see Bellamy standing behind them with his hands on his hips and a worried look on his face. He looked so much like Anya, when Clara would have run-ins with men out on the staircase or in the kitchen the morning after a wild rendezvous, and the matron was scared Clara freaked them out. Clara snorted and felt a bitter smile erupt on her face at the distant memory.

“Bell, I am fine. Clara helped me out and made sure my ass wasn’t grass. Now, let’s get to it. This cart isn’t slowing down, so we got to get the hell off. Now!”

“O’s right. We need to go,” Clara announced. Raven was resting against a wooden box, massaging her bum leg when she turned to her. “You alright?” she asked the other girl.

Raven pursed her lips before nodding. “Yeah, I’m always good. Like you said, Octavia’s right. Looks like we’re gonna have to make a jump for it.”

Bellamy shook his head, and said a low, “This discussion is not over,” to his sister before walking to the large sliding sided door and tugging it open once more. This time, instead of empty air, there was a snow bank, also known as the absolute best landing they would ever get.

“Alright, move it, Blakes!” Raven ordered.

Clara was already moving, grabbing the suit cases and Bellamy’s forgotten coat before standing beside Raven. Bellamy came to move beside her, and Octavia positioned herself on his other side.

The speeding train and the roaring wind made it hard to talk, but Octavia, always the jokester, let out a sarcastic, “This is out stop!” over the noise. As if on cue, the four of them all jumped off the luggage cart as one before hitting the thick snow.

Clara felt herself sink into the snow a few inches immediately on impact and was sure the others did the same, too. She popped her head up in search of her travel companions. She saw Raven sitting a few feet away from her, at least, Clara thought she was seated because she couldn’t see the girl’s entire lower half due to the snow. A low groan to her left caught her attention. She turned to see nothing but a mop of curls and the tips of a pair of steel-toed boots peeking out from underneath he thick snow. Further down, Octavia was already standing, trying to shake all the snow off her body.

Octavia was wiggling and shimmying in such a ridiculous way that’s she found herself laughing at the other girl’s antics. “There is snow in places snow _really_ does not belong!” Octavia cried as she bounced around. That only made Clara laugh harder and even drew a few chuckles out of Raven, who was staring at Octavia in bemusement.

Bellamy suddenly popped up from the snow so fast that Clara was covered in excess snow once again.

“Seriously?” Clara snapped, scowling at the man. His dark clothing and appearance was in stark contrast to the snow they were all covered in and surrounded by. It all somehow made his dark eyes more prominent and his tan skin almost glowing.

Clara found herself yearning to smooth his inky black curls out and run her fingers through them. The thought of feeling how soft those curls looked made her heart do somersaults, and that’s when she knew she had gone too far. Clara shook her head as if that would help her get rid of those ridiculous thoughts faster.

“Hey, Clara, thanks for pulling me up back there. Oh, and good thinking with those dynamite! I already knew you were a badass, but you continue to impress me,” Octavia said when Clara turned back to face the girls. She had finally stopped squirming to get all the snow off and was currently re-braiding her hair to perfection.

“Yeah, that was pretty badass of you, girl,” Raven agreed. She had managed to stand and was dusting the snow off her in a much calmer way than Octavia had.

Clara felt her cheeks heat up at their words. “Oh, thanks I guess? I didn’t realize how much people underestimated me.”

Bellamy was staring at the blonde girl in shock. “Wait, you were the one who handed me the dynamite? I thought that was O!”

She didn’t think it was possible, but her cheeks grew hotter at his surprised words. Clara pulled herself out of the snow and busied herself getting all the snow off her before responding.

“Nope. That was all me. Is it really that surprising? I mean, I don’t look that girly and prissy, do I? After all,” she smirked, “I did kick your ass when we first met.”

The look Bellamy gave her right then made her heart soar and her entire body grow hot. There was so much surprise and pride in his eyes as he stared at the girl he had just met that morning. He knew they were brought together by his con and that she was only there to play a role, but he couldn’t help how he was just drawn to her. There was something about this girl that made his curious personality thirst for more. Bellamy, of course, would never let himself do such a thing, knowing full well that letting feelings get in the way could potentially ruin this job. Him and Octavia had too much riding on this job as it is, and he was not about to let a tiny crush get in the way, no matter how impressive Clara was.

Instead of saying all the words he really wanted to say, his only response was, “What the hell did they teach you in that orphanage?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, once again, I am so sorry about not updating sooner! Here is a rough translation of what Raven said in the beginning of the second chapter I added. La tensión sexual aquí es prácticamente sofocante. "Por favor, solo consigue una maldita habitación."-The sexual tension in here is absolutely suffocating. Please get a fucking room already. 
> 
> Please, please, please let me know what ya'll think! I'll update ASAP, I promise! xo


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